


Fever Dream

by SparkleMoose



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 02:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10935270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleMoose/pseuds/SparkleMoose
Summary: Micah is fairly certain he's supposed to be dead. That he's not suppose to be training a main character from a video game before they become said main character, and he's definitely sure he's not suppose to be hearing the Voice of the Planet.Or sprouting flowers. The flowers might be the deal breaker on the whole, 'saving the world' business.





	Fever Dream

Micah should be dead.

 

He isn’t sure how he knows this, has no recollection of dying, and yet, with a certainty he has never felt before, he knows he should be dead.

 

Micah likely would have spent more time wondering how he died if it hadn’t been for the fact that he clearly remembers being stabbed by his ex-boyfriend as he walked home from work. He remembers the hospital, the nurse and doctor telling him he’d be fine and then-

 

Then nothing.

 

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened next.

 

For his part, Micah feels as alive as he ever had, he doesn’t need to breathe he finds. Which is odd, but when he tries to make his lungs work he finds that wherever he is has nothing for him to breathe in.

 

So he stays where he is, motionless, a statue waiting for something to happen.

 

The landscape in front of him is beautiful to say the least. The sky above him is filled with stars and overlooks a field. The field has flowers, daffodils he thinks, dancing in a wind that seems to ignore him. For all the movement the flowers make Micah’s clothing remained curiously still. He felt no wind on his skin. The playful breeze the flowers were privy too seemed to ignore him.

 

It made his stomach twist. The stillness he brought with him was unnatural, it hung about  like the plague. Despite that, the flowers seemed to reach toward him, as though they longed for his touch. For some sort of interaction.

 

The flowers too, were waiting. Micah didn’t know what they were waiting for exactly, but he had the feeling it was the same thing he was waiting for.

 

Slowly, the flowers stopped moving and stood stock still. For some reason, this was more unnerving than the invisible breeze that made them move.

 

Turning his eyes away from the flowers, Micah looks up.

 

His breath would have caught if there was anything to breathe in. There, standing in front of him, looked to be a complete replica of Minerva from Final Fantasy: Crisis Core.

 

Only it isn’t a replica.

 

It is alive. Micah isn’t sure how he knows this, but he knows that this thing giving off the vibe of mother, friend, is the most real thing he has ever encountered.

 

Yet she seems sad, when she looks at Micah there is something in her eyes. Remorse perhaps? But for what?

 

Minerva doesn’t speak, she gives him a sad smile, and suddenly the air is breathable again. Air rushes into his lungs like a punch to the gut and Micah finds himself on his knees gasping. The flowers begin their movement again, brushing against Micah’s skin as he struggles to breathe again.

 

So focused on his breath, Micah doesn’t notice when the movement of the flowers begins to change. Only notices the roots climbing on him when they begin to burrow under his skin. He tries to scream, to curse out the goddess looking at him like she is sorry but won’t stop because purpose lines her face no matter how sorrowful she might seem.

 

She is a goddess, a goddess that could be kind if she wanted to. A goddess that’s sole purpose is to protect her people and while Micah may be a human, he was never hers.

 

Minerva has no reason not to harm those who are not hers.

 

Micah struggles, the stillness that had taken hold of him earlier lost. He twists in the hold of the roots and attempts to rip the roots digging under his skin off only to find that his hands have already been rendered immobile by the roots.

 

Realization dawns on him. He is being consumed by plant matter, the plant life that had taken hold of his hands already starting to bloom. He is being eaten alive by plants and there is nothing he can do about it.

 

He opens his mouth to try and scream and flowers fall out. He recognizes them as bearded hawk's-beard

 

Flowers that mean protection.

 

He would have laughed at that if he could, here he was, kneeling at the feet of a supposedly fictional goddess and flowers that were used to symbolize protection were falling out of his mouth.

 

Micah didn’t know whether or not the flowers meant he was going to be used as protection for whatever happened next, or if it meant that the goddess would protect him; the latter seeming rather laughable as Minerva was currently turning him into a plant.

 

He can’t move his neck now, and out of the corner of his eye he can seem a variety of flowers blooming on his shoulders.

 

He wonders if when the flowers reach his brain he’ll cease to exist.

 

He doesn’t have to wonder about that for long before the flowers take his eyes and everything falls into darkness.

  


* * *

 

Micah jolts awake to the sound of a voice asking him if he’s alright. Automatically, his hands move towards his eyes, to his face, checking to see if he still sprouted flowers.

 

To his relief, he isn’t, he can feel his nose, his eyes, his lips and chin. He has the facial features of a human being and for that he is forever grateful.

 

Still, something around him seems to sing, seems to delight in his presence.

 

Micah ignores it in favor of going over his last few memories. He remembers Minerva, the flowers and then, nothing.

 

Perhaps it was all just a weird dream, he thinks, perhaps it wasn’t anything at all. Then Micah opens his eyes, and knows for certain it wasn’t a dream. That he had died, that he had seen Minerva before he wound up wherever he is now. He knows this for certain because staring him at him worriedly is Cloud Strife.

 

A real life Cloud fucking Strife. He looks younger than he was in Crisis Core, the worried expression on his face and the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks assuring Micah that he hadn’t landed in the original game or after. This Cloud looks as though he’s barely fourteen and yet he looks worn down and tired.

 

“Kid,” Micah manages to choke out, “I should be asking you that. You look like shit.”

 

An affronted look crosses Cloud’s face and Micah almost smiles as he moves to stand and almost falls back down.

 

“I’m okay,” he says, waving Cloud off as the blond moves to help him, “I’m fine.”

 

Cloud looks doubtful, “Are you sure?” he asks, “If you can hang on for a while I’m sure we can find someone to help.”

 

Scanning the era Micah finds that he had been passed out on the side of a road so Cloud’s claim isn’t hard to believe, but if he were in a dystopian future ruled by corporate greed he wouldn’t have stopped to help anyone.

 

One has to look out for themselves after all.

 

Seeing the disbelief on Micah’s face Cloud looks dangerously close to pouting.

 

“People would stop and help,” Cloud insists, “I know they would.”

 

“I doubt it,” Micah says, “That’s some serious small town thinking right there.”

 

“And I suppose a big city guy would know better?”

 

“Nah,” Micah says, “Anyone living in the real world without the haze of small town dreams would know better.” Micah had given up on his own small town dreams a while ago.

 

Not that it mattered anymore since he’s, well, either stuck in the afterlife or in completely different dimension. Personally, he’s leaning toward the ‘stuck in a completely different dimension theory’ since he’s not entirely sure that seeing Minerva doesn’t count as a jaunt in the afterlife.

 

Something Micah had said must have piqued Cloud’s interest because Cloud doesn’t leave

 

“You’re from a small town too?” Cloud asks, tilting his head to the side, “Where are you from?”

 

“Nowhere you heard of.”

 

Cloud looks like he’s about to say something when Micah cuts him off.

 

“Trust me, you won’t find it on a map.”

 

Cloud looks mildly impressed.

 

“That small, huh?” he asks.

 

“You could say that,” Micah doesn’t mention that while his town had been small, it is still on a map even if he had personally thought that it isn’t map worthy.

 

Micah just isn’t going to explain to a person that is supposed to be fictional that his town wasn’t on any map because it doesn’t exist in the world they were currently in.

 

“Anyway, kid,” Micah says, “Why are you out here by yourself?” Micah might not know a lot about Gaia, but he’s fairly certain that fourteen year olds shouldn’t be out traveling on the road by themselves.

 

At least, that’s what he assumes Cloud is doing, the boy has a backpack that looks like it’s about to burst at any moment, and there is no other adult in sight. Needless to say, Micah, despite his best efforts, is worried about Cloud.

 

The kid seems to be about fourteen after all, why the hell would a fourteen year old be traveling by himself?

 

Cloud lets out a huff, as though he’s used to adults looking down on him. From what little Micah remembers of Cloud’s past he wouldn’t doubt that most of the adults in Cloud’s life did.

 

“I’m headed to Midgar,” Cloud says, holding his head high, “I’m going to join SOLDIER.”

 

Ah, Micah thinks.

 

Shit.

 

Figures he had landed right when Cloud had already decided to join SOLDIER. While Micah doubts that anything he can say will dissuade Cloud from joining he figures he can at least try and give Cloud an edge.

 

After all, Micah has been fencing since he was ten, and Cloud, well, he figures Cloud has no experience with weapons. Micah, on the other hand, can wield both a staff and sword, knows more than enough martial arts to fend off an attacker, and while he may have no actual combat experience, he figures that his experience with weapons would come in handy in the dystopian hellscape he found himself in.

 

Micah wonders if he can do anything to make Cloud’s life easier, if he can do something to make sure Cloud never makes it to Hojo’s hands. He’s here now after all, and when Micah thinks of leaving Cloud to his fate the singing in the back of his mind turns harsh and he feels like throwing up.

 

“Kid,” Micah says, mindful of the fact that Cloud has yet to tell Micah his name, “You’re as thin as a twig and I bet you have no combat experience,” Cloud looks like he’s about to interrupt so Micah raises a hand and gestures to Cloud to stay quiet, “What I’m saying is that as you are right now, you have a very slim chance of making SOLDIER. However if you let me train you say, as a repayment for not robbing me-” At least he hopes Cloud hasn’t robbed him, not that he thinks he had much on him in the first place, “-then I’m sure you’ll have a better chance next time.”

 

“The try-outs for the cadet program close in two months,” Cloud protests.

 

“And I can’t have you ready in two months,” Micah agrees, “But there’s always next time, and I can guarantee that I can have you ready by that time.”

 

“A year is too long,” Cloud says, “I promised someone that I’d make SOLDIER-”

 

“And how did you plan on making SOLDIER the way you are now?” Micah interrupts, “Do you even know how to hold a sword?” Micah is aware he is being harsh, but he has to make sure that Cloud gets it, “I’m sure whoever you made that promise too won’t mind waiting,” Micah says, more gently this time, “What is worse? Being unable to fulfill your promise because you didn’t train long enough, or taking a longer time but being able to keep your promise?”

 

Cloud looks like he’s going to say something, looks like he’s going to reject Micah’s offer for a moment before his shoulders slump and he sighs.

 

“Are you sure?” Cloud asks quietly, “Are you sure you can get me up to par in a year?”

 

 _No,_ Micah almost says, _No, because I’ve never taught anyone before. No, because I’m scared of what you could become if you come with me._

 

“Yes,” Micah says instead, “I’m sure of it.”

 

* * *

 

Cloud winds up joining him. Which, Micah would feel better about, if he had any idea where the fuck he was supposed to go now.

 

The Song, as Micah had taken to calling the annoying singing that seemed to surround him, seems to urge him west.

 

Micah does not want to go west, the farther away from Midgar the better he thinks. Especially if the fact he hears singing means what he thinks it does.

 

Still, Costa del Sol would be a good place to pick up work, Micah thinks, and grudgingly accepts the Song’s advice.

 

Cloud, thankfully, has a map on him so they aren’t lost. Luck seems to be on their side as they arrive in Costa del Sol without any issues other than Cloud’s complaints about the training regime Micah had set up for him. Apparently, Cloud had thought that they would jump right to swordplay.

 

Micah laughed at that, and pointed out that one, he didn’t have a sword on him, and two, that he wouldn’t teach a student that didn’t know how to defend himself without a weapon.

 

In other words, Cloud has had his ass handed to him each night they were on the road, and while Micah would admit he was improving, he still wasn’t near Micah’s own level.

 

So Micah keeps pushing him. Gives him strength and flexibility exercises, and when Cloud complains about them Micah smirks.

 

He remembers when he used to do the same thing.

 

Idyllic as being Cloud’s mentor for the journey to Costa del Sol and for the week they spend there, doing the odd jobs SOLDIER’s couldn’t be bothered to do or haven’t managed to pick up yet, everything has to end sometime.

 

In Cloud and Micah’s case, it ends with screams.

**Author's Note:**

> A list of things I should be working on:
> 
> 1\. Not this.
> 
> But because I am a lame nerd with no self-restraint you get this instead of new chapters for my other fics that I SWEAR I'm working on okay guys. 
> 
> Anyway, FFVII has sucked me in again and I have no idea how to get out? This is my first work in the fandom in years? Gosh, I hope it's okay.


End file.
